


Boyfriend Buffer

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Visits can be Tough, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2863982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras hates when his parents come to visit. Strangely enough, it's Grantaire who offers a solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boyfriend Buffer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [polyamory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/polyamory/gifts).



> I hope you like it!

Enjolras hated when his parents came to visit. It wasn’t just that they disagreed on their political views, the way Enjolras chose to live his life, or his sexual orientation. It was the nerves and anxiousness that they brought out of him.

He’s been assured that it’s completely normal to be anxious when family comes for a visit, but he hates it. He hates that he feels on edge and completely out of control. Things start to slip through the cracks when he gets anxious.

Which would explain why they were currently phoning him from the airport, trying to decide plans for dinner. He glanced back down at his planner open on his desk because he had been sure, positive actually, that they weren’t coming in until after dinner.

But there, in bright red capital letters:  _Parents’ flight at 16:48._

“Enjolras? Are you even listening to me?” His mother demanded.

“Yes of course. Dinner. Where would you like to go for dinner?” Enjolras asked them.

He let his mind haze while they discussed the location and time they were going to be meeting for dinner because he needed to prepare himself for the onslaught of questions that they would undoubtedly ask.

They hung up and Enjolras knew that he wasn’t going to get any more work done—even though he still had a paper he had to finish this weekend. Perhaps if he went home, took a shower, he’d be able to calm down enough to work for a little bit before dinner.

“Shit, Apollo, what’s up?”

Enjolras whipped his head up at Grantaire’s voice. “Sorry?”

“You look like you’re coming down from some sort of high. Everything all right?” Grantaire asked.

“Yes. Everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” Enjolras said quickly.

Grantaire just raised his eyebrows.

“My parents have come to visit and I’m…not prepared,” Enjolras admitted.

“You, not prepared?” Grantaire glanced around. “Has hell finally frozen over?”

Enjolras groaned.

“Sorry, now’s clearly not the time for jokes.” Grantaire paused. “Is that why you’ve been a little off these past weeks?”

“What do you mean?” Enjolras asked.

“Well, you’ve been more jumpy that normal and seem to run on a steady stream of caffeine instead of actual food and sleep,” Grantaire said.

“ _Some_ say that’s how I live normally,” Enjolras said.

“Not to mention during our last discussion on the recent police brutality in America you didn’t even demand for my sources,” Grantaire said.

Enjolras frowned. “I always do.”

“My point exactly,” Grantaire said as he flopped into the chair next to Enjolras. “You’re parents really that bad?”

Enjolras snorted. “We don’t agree on anything and it’s normally just a bunch of awkward formality.”

“So it’s a normal family gathering,” Grantaire said. “You just aren’t handling it well because you feel out of control.”

“I do not need to be in control!”

“Oh my dear Apollo. You absolutely do.” Grantaire smiled at him.

Enjolras didn’t dignify that with an answer. He continued packing up his bag from his day of work.

“Is there anything I can do?” Grantaire asked after a few moments of silence.

Enjolras shrugged. “Not really. It’s just…difficult.”

Grantaire nodded. “I get that.”

Grantaire stood and followed Enjolras as he left the office building. Before they parted ways, Grantaire placed his hand on Enjolras’ arm.

“You can call me later if you need someone to talk to or vent to or whatever,” Grantaire said. “I know you have Combeferre and Courfeyrac and Feuilly, but you know, in case you want someone else.”

Enjolras smiled at him. “Thank you, Grantaire.”

With that, they parted way so Enjolras could go and prepare for his dinner with his parents and the upcoming ten days.

* * *

He’d had no intention of calling Grantaire. He’d had no intention of even contacting him that night until he was back in his apartment, feeling jagged and raw like his parents always made him.

Enjolras knew that they normally didn’t intend to be so cruel, but their words just hit a little too close to his own insecurities.

“Apollo?” Grantaire greeted. “I see you’ve survived.”

Enjolras cleared his throat, crawling under his covers, not even bothering to change. “Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Grantaire asked quietly.

“Why did you come to my office today?” Enjolras asked.

If Grantaire was startled by the turn of conversation, he didn’t let on. “You wanted me to drop off the mock-ups for your latest advertisements. You said that you needed them by this weekend so you could make a decision so you could order them right away on Monday.”

Enjolras swallowed. “Do you think I’m difficult?”

Grantaire laughed. “Is that a serious question? You’re the most difficult, stubborn person I have ever met.”

“Oh.”

“Enjolras, this can’t be news to you. I mean, you wouldn’t be where you are if you weren’t so stubborn, so driven,” Grantaire explained.

Enjolras thought back to the conversation his parents had with him at dinner. They were questioning him about his lack of a partner. Normally, Enjolras isn’t bothered by the fact he wasn’t currently attached to anyone because he just wasn’t concerned about it. But it was the way the insinuated that he was single and alone because he was just too difficult and demanding to love.

It stung.

“Are you okay?” Grantaire asked quietly.

“No,” Enjolras sighed. “My parents are staying in town for ten days. How am I going to get through this, R?”

“By being Enjolras and pushing yourself like you do best,” Grantaire said.

“It’s hard to be myself when they just don’t seem to see _me._ ” Enjolras shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“When are you seeing them next?” Grantaire asked.

“Tomorrow we’re meeting for dinner again,” Enjolras explained. “I can’t take an entire day off from the office tomorrow, not to mention the paper I meant to finish yesterday. They plan to do some things over the weekend with me.”

“Hmm. Why don’t I meet you tomorrow and I’ll walk with you to meet your parents. I’m sure we could strike up an argument that’ll give you something else to focus on during your dinner,” Grantaire suggested.

“You don’t have to do that,” Enjolras said.

“It’s not a problem. Besides, I have those mock-ups for you.”

“All right. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” Enjolras hesitated. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Grantaire warned. “I just read an article that was pro-capital punishment and I rather think they made some interesting points.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Enjolras instantly wanted to find his notes.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” Grantaire’s laugh sounded as he hung up.

Enjolras felt a little better, a little more comfortable as he went off to sleep.

* * *

Grantaire didn’t actually bring up the capital punishment debate on their walk to the restaurant. He must have sensed that Enjolras was entirely frazzled because he hadn’t had time to work on his paper and he was running a little bit late. Grantaire only talked about his latest commission work and the new showcase he was hesitantly working on.

It was nice to have Grantaire there to fill the silences and just remind Enjolras that he wasn’t alone. He was definitely going to have to have a night out with his friends after his parents leave. Grantaire mentioned that they were all going out that night, so maybe he’d meet up with them.

“Who’s this Enjolras?” His father’s voice startled him. He hadn’t realized that they were so close to the restaurant.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said.

“Not a boyfriend, obviously,” his mother said, though she tried to make it sound like a question.

“There’s nothing wrong with Grantaire,” Enjolras defended.

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with him,” his mother clarified. “It’s just, after the conversation last night, I doubt you have the time for a boyfriend.”

Enjolras felt himself jerk and then felt Grantaire’s hand on the small of his back.

“I’m not his boyfriend,” Grantaire said. “Obviously, Enjolras prefers the term ‘partner’ instead of boyfriend.”

Enjolras wasn’t sure who was more surprised, his parents or himself. Probably himself.

“Oh.” His mother was visibly trying to back-pedal. “I guess I didn’t realize he was involved with anyone. He never said.”

Grantaire just waved a hand, directing his mother’s attention back to him. “You know how Enjolras is, always trying to keep his private life private.”

“Should we go and get our table?” Enjolras asked before more questions could be asked while they stood outside.

“Sure. I’ll go and check our coats,” his father said.

Enjolras waiting until his mother walked toward the hostess at the front to discuss their reservations before turning Grantaire to face him.

Grantaire held up his hands. “I know, and I’m sorry. I just didn’t like how they were talking to you.”

“But you’re pretending to be my boyfriend,” Enjolras said.

“I thought we already established we’re partners,” Grantaire smirked.

“I just…” Enjolras trailed off.

“I won’t stay if it makes you uncomfortable. I just…you’re not yourself when you’re with them and I couldn’t bear to see that,” Grantaire explained.

“And what happens when we meet up to go sight-seeing tomorrow and they wonder where my boyfriend—partner is?” Enjolras asked him.

“I can go with you, if you want.” Grantaire tilted his head.

“Grantaire, you would be my fake partner?” Enjolras frowned at him.

“It works all the time in movies,” Grantaire said.

“It never works in movies.” Enjolras paused. “I don’t actually think I’ve ever seen it in a film before.”

“That’s because you only watch documentaries or historical or ‘based on true events’ movies,” Grantaire argued.

“Are you sure you’re all right with this?” Enjolras asked.

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

“I’m not very good at,” Enjolras waved his hand. “This.”

“Being in a relationship?” Grantaire smiled. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

“Are you two ready?” Enjolras’ mother asked coming back over.

Enjolras nodded and tried not to look surprised when Grantaire’s hand rested on his back again. He hoped dinner wouldn’t be too incredibly awkward. And that his parents wouldn’t pressure Grantaire too much.

“So Grantaire, what is it you do?” His father asked once they’d all ordered. It had been deadly silent while they all had been reading over the menu.

Enjolras turned to Grantaire. Grantaire just gave him a lazy smile.

“I’m an artist, actually,” he said taking a sip of water.

“I didn’t even know that was something you could make a living off of.” Enjolras’ mother looked surprised but her voice sounded more condescending.

Grantaire laughed. “Unfortunately, it’s not only my personal art that brings in money. I mostly do commission work and art restoration.”

“Art restoration?” His mother asked. “Like making copies?”

“Not exactly, though if someone wants a copy I can make it happen. What I normally do is get hired on by museums and other art collectors when one of their paintings need a touch up or cleaning,” Grantaire explained. “I know, art restoration sounds a bit more fun and adventurous than it is.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Enjolras said. “You’re really good. Not many people can copy just any artists’ style.”

Grantaire ducked his head and mumbled, “Thanks.”

“Art is so…interesting. Don’t you think so dear?” His mother asked.

His father just hummed over his glass of wine.

“It is, actually,” Enjolras said, feeling like he needs to defend Grantaire. “He painted an exact replica of Van Gogh’s _Café Terrace at Night_ once, but he made all the people in the painting resemble our group of friends.”

Enjolras loved that painting. It was currently hanging in his bedroom in his apartment.

“That’s wonderful,” his mother said.

His parents didn’t seem to see how amazing and talented Grantaire was and it was frustrating. Grantaire placed his hand on Enjolras’ knee. Enjolras reached down to grab his hand and squeeze it in a form of apology and solidarity. He just hoped Grantaire understood.

“So what is it you two do?” Grantaire asked when their food came.

Enjolras ate mostly in silence, keeping an ear open to the conversation around him as his father told Grantaire all about his business work and his mother mentioned her charity work. He felt Grantaire poke him when he heard that she donates a lot of her time to charities that are big name and some of them only offer a tiny portion of their proceeds to the actual charity itself.

Grantaire was surprisingly really good at the small talk with his parents. Although, small talk was something Grantaire was normally good at with anyone. Enjolras, thought, was not. His mind is too focused and he’s just jump right in with his questions or statements because why waste time? Combeferre was the one who’d scold him later about it.

“So you’re with Enjolras?” His father asked and Enjolras focused his attention back.

“It looks that way,” Grantaire said smiling over at Enjolras.

“How did that happened?” his mother asked. “I don’t mean to pry, but Enjolras just has never mentioned you.”

Grantaire shrugged. “He mentioned your visit a while ago and I thought I was going to be stuck in the middle of an assignment so that’s probably why he didn’t say anything. Thankfully I was able to finish before you two left.”

“Have you been together for a long time?” His mother continued questioning.

“Not very long,” Enjolras said.

“But almost a year,” Grantaire said, his hand coming to rest on Enjolras’ knee again. It was comforting more than annoying.

Enjolras looked surprised at him, “It’s almost been a year?”

“Oh Enjolras, you forgot when your anniversary is?” His mother tsked as she shook her head. “You’re doing too much and clearly things are getting lost in the shuffle. Your anniversary, our visit, surely your own relationship suffers because of your workaholic tendencies.”

Grantaire laughed, but his hand didn’t move from Enjolras’ knee. “Enjolras has always overworked himself and he forgets all the little things that he doesn’t see as important.”

“That’s not true!” Enjolras said, trying to push Grantaire’s hand off now.

“But he does always remember in the end,” Grantaire said softly and Enjolras grabbed his hand instead. “Everyone who knows him knows how passionate he is for everything, which includes his friends. We all know that he can become single-minded to the point of hyper-focus, but that’s what makes him Enjolras.”

“Hmm,” his father said.

“Not to mention the fact that if he didn’t work so hard, he’d never be where he’s at today. He’s going to law school while working nearly full-time at a firm already, and he leads the Amis,” Grantaire said. “No one could do all of that without his motivation.”

“But that leaves so little time for a social life, for time with you,” his mother said. “Doesn’t that bother you? I know it’d bother me if the person I was with never had a moment to spare to spend with me.”

“Mother that’s—“ Grantaire swiftly cut off Enjolras.

“When you love someone, you accept them exactly as they are.” Grantaire’s voice was like steel. “I knew going into this that Enjolras had a lot on his plate, so it’s not a surprise that he doesn’t have a lot of free time. And what free time he does have, I prefer him to rest and get caught up on sleep anyway.”

“Besides,” Grantaire continued. “It’s not like he never makes time for me. He does pretty much every day by always responding to my texts or e-mails. Every Les Amis meeting he gives me his undivided attention when we’re in the middle of a debate. He doesn’t need to set aside an entire day for me to know that he cares about me. It’s just the little things.”

Enjolras was squeezing Grantaire’s hand so tightly that he was worried Grantaire was going to complain. He didn’t.

Conversation became stiff after that since so his parents excused themselves early from dinner. Enjolras wasn’t going to complain. They did mention that they hoped to see Grantaire at some of their events over the next week.

Grantaire said he’d make as many as he could. Some of the nerves in Enjolras’ stomach settled at hearing that.

* * *

It turned out that being Grantaire’s boyfriend was pretty amazing actually. Not only because Enjolras had a protective buffer between himself and his parents, but Grantaire was incredibly gentle and kind.

Grantaire was there to offer and encouraging word to Enjolras or on Enjolras’ behalf whenever his parents started to give him a hard time. He was constantly bringing up how impressive it was that a first year law student was already working nearly full-time at a law firm with one of the most prestigious, celebrated lawyers and professors at the university.

Grantaire was _proud_ to be with Enjolras, at least that’s how he acted. It was overwhelming and wondering and terrifying and Enjolras didn’t exactly know what to do with it.

As confused as Grantaire made him, he also made Enjolras feel incredibly comfortable. He was always hovering near Enjolras, making sure to stay close in case he needed something, or to place his hand on his back to calm him from being baited by his parents. He just simply was _there_ and that was the most comforting about Grantaire.

At the Louvre he’d held Enjolras’ hand as he chatting with his parents about the art. He did make sure to make under his breath comments that only Enjolras could hear about the artists they were looking at or some funny story from his art classes at school. At one particular moment, Enjolras was laughing so hard he had to hide his face in Grantaire’s shoulder, who had expertly managed to make it look like a hug.

When they had gone out to lunch at a café, Grantaire jumped to his defense when his parents got on his case about ordering for Grantaire. He said that Enjolras always ordered interesting things and he didn’t mind when Enjolras did that.

After their walk along the Seine—his parents always acted touristy, but this time, with Grantaire it wasn’t so bad—Enjolras was even comfortable initiating contact with Grantaire. He’d reach out to grab his hand or run his fingers alone Grantaire’s spine. He’d even tried to play footsie with Grantaire at the restaurant that night, but that was difficult since they were sitting next to each other. Their legs just ended up slightly tangled but neither made any inkling to move.

Throughout the week, Grantaire was even more amazing. He brought Enjolras lunch every day, claiming that he’d be able to better ward from his parents if he kept his strength up. He read through the paper Enjolras was still working on—yes it wasn’t technically due until the end of the month, but he liked to be able to remain prepared. And he continued going out with him to meet his parents, though that wasn’t every night.

The nights that they didn’t go out with his parents, Enjolras missed his presence and always ended up texting him until Grantaire told him to get some sleep or reminded him that he should be working on his paper. When they did go out with his parents, Grantaire always walked him home.

It was nice.

It was wonderful actually to have someone care that much about him. He knew, deep down that this was all pretend and fake but he did know that Grantaire cared about him and it was nice. He wouldn’t be going through with it unless he cared for Enjolras at least a little.

It was during their Wednesday night text session that Enjolras starting thinking about what was going to happen when his parents left and Grantaire stopped pretending to be his boyfriend. Would he respond to any of his texts? Would they even have a reason to see each other? Would Grantaire even want to make time for him with his parents gone?

Those thoughts plagued Enjolras all through the night and the next day. He didn’t want this to end, but he also didn’t quite know what to do. Obviously Combeferre received a lengthy explanatory e-mail Thursday morning that detailed everything that had happened and what Enjolras was feeling now.

Combeferre responded three hours later simply with _Tell Grantaire._

Enjolras supposed that it really was that simple so he planned on going over to Grantaire’s after he finished work. He’d texted him and asked him if it was okay if he came back after work. Grantaire had said of course.

And he tried not to think about it the rest of the day. Naturally that was all he thought about during his work day, his commute to Grantaire’s apartment, and the nearly forty minutes he spent pacing outside on the street.

“Enjolras?”

Enjolras looked over and saw Grantaire standing there, a mostly burned cigarette hanging from his fingers. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to see you pacing back and forth and wondering if you’re going to give yourself a panic attack with how crazed you look.” Grantaire stubbed out his cigarette. “Everything okay?”

“No.” Enjolras shook his head. “Yes. I mean. I want to go out with you.”

Grantaire shrugged. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”

Enjolras groaned and leaned against the wall of the building. “No not tonight.”

“Then when?” Grantaire asked walking closer to Enjolras.

“It’s not just a time, it’s a thing,” Enjolras said.

“I know I’m usually pretty good at understanding what you’re trying to say, but I’m a little lost here, Apollo,” Grantaire told him.

Instead of answering Enjolras reached for his hand and let that anchor him into making his confession.

“What I meant was, I don’t want this to end,” Enjolras said, squeezing Grantaire’s hand. “I don’t want to not…be your boyfriend in two days.”

“Technically you were never my boyfriend,” Grantaire said.

“But I want to be,” Enjolras said. “Officially.”

Grantaire swallowed. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“I’m asking you to consider a relationship with me.”

Grantaire laughed. “You really know how to make a romantic gesture sound like a business transaction.”

Enjolras frowned.

“Lucky for you,” Grantaire continued. “I like hearing you talk business.”

Grantaire moved into the space before Enjolras, waiting for Enjolras’ nod before leaning down and kissing him.

“Wait, is that a yes?” Enjolras whispered after they broke away.

Grantaire laughed again. “Yes.”

Enjolras pushed himself forward to wrap his arms around Grantaire, breathing a sigh of relief.

“I know we technically only started this relationship, but my parents’ goodbye dinner is tomorrow. Will you please go with me?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire just laughed. But he did go with Enjolras to the dinner and acted the same as before. The only difference was when he walked Enjolras home that night, he kissed him goodnight.

**Author's Note:**

> It was a little rushed, but I think it actually works pretty well. And I love the fake/pretend relationship to real relationship trope! 
> 
> (I've got a few more treats planned and finally have time to finish them!)


End file.
